


Damsel In Distress

by divinexvivienne



Series: my heart is the worst kind of weapon [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Awkward Crush, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Female Character of Color, Nightmares, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 05:44:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3278921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divinexvivienne/pseuds/divinexvivienne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not easy being a brave warrior in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damsel In Distress

Ashlyn Cousland could barely remember the last time she had just a peaceful dream to arrive to. Sleeping had become a curse to the young female Warden for the past couple of days. Night after night, her mind plagued her with alarming visions of the dreadful Archdemon that she would have to face or the unknown demise of her parents in Highever. She’d awaken to her chest heaving shallow, rapid breaths forming, as her almond-shaped, brown eyes blinked back the very tears that threatened to fall out. Cold sweat stuck to her dark skin all over, from her neck to her stomach.

She forced herself to take in her surroundings as she calmed her pounding heart. She was in her tent and not in peril. She was in her tent with her comrades around her. She was at camp and nowhere near the fears she had foreseen moments ago. Everything was fine. A shaky breath and broken sob escaped her. She had nothing to be scared of.

For now.

She had a moment of peace.

“Maker preserve me,” Ashlyn muttered, hugging herself tightly in her own arms, while trying to make her body stop trembling. She was not surprised by this nightly routine anymore, but could not stop herself from hoping—longing—that it would come to an end soon. As she began to rub her wet eyes with the back of her hand, she heard a pair of heavy footsteps outside of her tent. She swallowed hard, unsure of what—or who—it could possibly be. Quickly she got up on her feet and reached for her sword and shield. She’d rather not take any chances of falling into complete comfort with danger waiting for her in every corner. She inhaled sharply before stumbling out of the flap with her weapons in hand and bumping right into none other than her fellow Warden, Alistair.

“Maker’s breath,” was exhaled soft like a whisper from Alistair’s lips as the two Wardens gawked at each other with wide eyes and minimum of distance between them. She could see that Alistair’s face was flushed pink thanks to the firelight behind him. She could feel her cheeks becoming warmer than usual, inhaling Alistair’s faint scent of almonds and fresh dried straw. Their lips were only a few inches away and, sweet Andraste’s flaming sword, Ashlyn would want nothing more but to just kiss the former Templar-in-training in front of her. That’s all she ever wanted to do since the two began to spend more time together after their little group of misfits left Lothering.

But Ashlyn wouldn’t dare to ever act upon her desire. She was afraid she might end up complicating things between them if she did. After all they had a Blight to end first. There was no time for childish matters like love and romance right now. Love would only be another weakness for her. Plus it would be dreadfully unlikely that Alistair would share the same feelings that she did for him. No man she had met before ever expressed any true interest in her, though she was fully aware why.

She was nowhere close the ideal woman that typical men dream of. She was no blushing fair maiden that most would compare to a delicate rose. She didn’t fall under the image of a proper lady. She was a warrior. A fighter. A wildfire. A force of fucking nature. She was not what most men wanted.

That was what she attempted to remind herself each time she thought of her infatuation with Alistair, however the strange dirty blond still ended up finding ways to cloud her mind with inappropriate thoughts with no fail.

“A-Alistair,” Ashlyn flashed him a nervous grin. She took a small step back and cleared her throat, trying to find her words properly. “Hello, how may I help you? Here to deliver unpleasant news and witty one-liners, I suppose?” She teased in a raspy voice as she lowered her weapons down to her sides.

The corner of Alistair’s mouth jerked, knowing very well what she was referring to, happy to know she remembered what he said earlier. His amber eyes gazed at her in such a manner that Ashlyn couldn’t put her finger on but it did indeed caused her heart to beat fast underneath her ribcage. The young male Warden took in the sight of his female comrade and, once again, felt something odd and funny flutter about in his stomach. This grew to be a terrible habit since that very moment he first laid eyes on the dark-skinned noblewoman back in Ostagar.

When Duncan—Maker rest his soul—informed him that he received a new, promising recruit from Highever, Alistair had no idea that the recruit was going to be an extraordinary beauty like Ashlyn Cousland. And he had seen his share of good-looking women in spite of being raised in the monastery. Since that day they met, she had slowly began to take over his thoughts. Her smooth mahogany-colored skin, her long ebony hair, her warm brown eyes, and her laughter—Maker, did he love to hear that woman’s captivating laughter. Especially because of the jokes he told.

It was surprising to find someone who understood his strange sense of humor. It appeared to be the norm that people found his humor to be intolerable. But Ashlyn appreciated it. She would even participate in his jesting with her own jokes here and there. And that was only just one of the reasons he adored her.

He liked that she was witty with her words. That she was a remarkably brave warrior in combat. That she was standing right in front of him as if she was some kind of war goddess while he simply stood there looking at her like some pathetic lovesick fool.     

“I, uh, well…not exactly.” Alistair hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. He avoided her gaze for a second, then returned his eyes back to her face. Though, still wouldn’t look at her dead in the eye. It always seemed to be the only way to make the funny feeling in his stomach go away. For a little bit. “I was just more along the lines of checking up on you…to see if you were alright. It sounded like you were crying and I got worried. I mean not that you aren’t capable of taking care…of yourself. I was just, uh, concerned that something must have happened to our fearless leader and, you know, that we wouldn’t want that so I checked…since I am awake…and on night watch, yes.”

His hands gestured all over the place while he rambled on and on. He felt like a complete idiot the more words spilt out his mouth. He figured she must think of him as utter fool for babbling on like that. Though, she didn’t really. Ashlyn’s heart skipped a beat when Alistair mentioned that he heard her crying. He heard her crying and wanted to see if she was well. It was sweet that he was concerned about her.

“Oh…” Her teeth sunk into her lower lip. She struggled to prevent herself from smiling at Alistair’s usual awkward behavior. Damn the Maker for allowing such an awkwardly adorable man to exist. “So you came to be my knight in shining armor, then?” She teased him, but actually wanted to receive an honest answer from him.

Alistair laughed nervously. This time he couldn’t tell if she was being clever with him or perhaps maybe, just maybe, was flirting with him? He prayed it was the latter, even though he knew an incredible and beautiful woman like herself would never feel the same way about him like he did for her. Not even in his wildest dreams.

“You could say that.” He glanced down to her hands and his mouth twitched. “But I extremely doubt you fall under the category of a damsel in distress. So I am assuming that you’ll be sending me off and away now.” A giggle left Ashlyn’s lips, which brought about a charmed smile to Alistair’s face.

“Oh, but I am a damsel in distress, dear knight. I am after all a damsel and happen to always be in distress. Though, I can handle it, of course. So I suppose that I shall.” She grinned faintly. But it was easy to see the sorrow that dawdled in her eyes.

“Are…are you sure, Ashlyn? That you are fine?” He furrowed his brows together, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her body tensed by the sudden contact, then relaxed. He only wanted to know the reason why she was crying. To comfort her in the best way he could.

But Ashlyn didn’t want him to be hampered by her problems. She could handle this. She was their fearless leader, was she not?

“Yes. I am fine, Alistair.”

**Author's Note:**

> Can also be found here: http://divinexvivienne.tumblr.com/post/108953733033/damsel-in-distress-alistair-x-cousland


End file.
